


Set Me On Fire

by Nuanta



Series: As We Are [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Riding, it's kind of PWP but not?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuanta/pseuds/Nuanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler’s the one who can remind Jamie what it’s like to feel alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Me On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "We Don't Talk About It", in which Jamie suffers from depression following his hip surgery and Tyler helps him through it. Briefly mentions mental illness (I guess?) but I really wanted to write a fluffy/porny sequel to make myself feel better, so here you go.
> 
> Dedicated to Aiaru, for understanding me when my words won’t come out, and for making sure I take care of myself when I can’t do it alone.

Jamie feels…good.

From the moment he wakes up to Tyler’s toes unconsciously tickling his calf and his fingers grazing the hem of his boxers, he thinks he might be able to have a good day. The heaviness that had settled deep inside him the night before is gone. Well, not completely gone. It’s still there, sort of, grasping at the edges of his awareness, but it’s a lot easier to ignore when Tyler’s drooling on the pillow next to him, their bodies pressed close together.

Yesterday had pretty much been a disaster across the board. Jamie’s hips had aggravated during physio, and in the end he couldn’t complete all of his exercises. It was a minor setback, hardly erasing the progress he’d made so far, but all he could think of was how everything he’d been working towards, all the strength and mobility he’d been building back up again, was just going to come crashing down.

It still happened, from time to time, these little hitches that made Jamie feel like he was taking massive steps backwards, like he was ruining things. Each time, Tyler would reassure him that little bumps along the road to recovery were perfectly normal, that it’s okay to be a little down sometimes, that Jamie was still loads better than before, that Jamie’s _okay_.

When he and Tyler got home that afternoon, Jamie collapsed onto the couch and lay there for the rest of the day while Tyler bustled around the house, taking care of all the things Jamie could not without ever nagging him for it. For all his insistence that Jamie put in the effort to look after himself and the house, Tyler lets Jamie have these days, once in a while.

“You’re allowed to have bad days, you know,” Tyler would remind him. “You work so hard all the time. It’s gonna catch up to you eventually. This is still okay. You’re doing so well.”

(Jamie doesn’t know if he fully believes Tyler just yet. Still, he can’t deny that it’s nice to hear.)

Last night, they ate dinner on the couch, just stupid little sandwiches cut into quarters because Tyler is a terrible cook. Jamie managed to roll his eyes when Tyler emerged with the plates, but the fond smile Tyler gave in return loosened some of the tension in Jamie’s shoulders.

They spent the evening cuddling, then they migrated to bed, and that was that.

Jamie doesn’t really know what changed between then and now, but he’s not complaining. He’s guardedly hopeful that today can be a good day. When he looks at Tyler’s peaceful expression, body fit nice and snug against Jamie’s own, he dares to tell himself it will be.

He unwraps himself from Tyler and slowly shifts out of bed, throws on a loose t-shirt and heads downstairs to make coffee.

Once he reaches the kitchen, he’s inspired to make breakfast. He clings to this sudden spur of motivation and throws himself into cooking bacon and eggs and hash browns and pancakes, determined to make the most of this while it lasts.

Tyler finds him this way, strolling into the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxers to a plate full of bacon to the left of the stove and another stacked with pancakes on the right as Jamie tosses some eggs and veggies into a pan to make omelettes. The kitchen smells amazingly of good food and good coffee, and Tyler whistles in admiration when he steps onto the tiled floor.

“Damn, what lit a fire under your ass this morning?” Tyler asks with a chuckle. He steps close and slips his arms around Jamie’s waist from behind, kissing the back of his neck, and Jamie remembers last night in the living room, listing into Tyler’s shoulder while they ate, sinking against Tyler’s body as Tyler filled the silence with encouraging words. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Jamie shrugs while he flips the eggs. “I dunno,” he says. “I just randomly felt like it. It’s kind of weird, I know.”

Tyler’s grip tightens. “No, no!” he protests. “This is good. Smells great. I can’t wait to eat.” He releases Jamie and takes a step back. “Want me to set the table?”

“Uh.” Jamie thinks back to last night again, inexplicably shy all of a sudden. “I was thinking we could eat on the couch again?” He fights back the flush that threatens to take over his face, and it’s not because he’s been standing over the heat of the stove for so long.

Tyler pats him on the back and moves over to grab some cutlery out of the drawer. “Yeah, sure, sounds good.” He flashes Jamie a gorgeous smile. “Whatever you want.”

It’s still a little embarrassing, the force Tyler’s affection directed at him like that and the way it turns Jamie’s insides to liquid, so Jamie turns his attention back to the eggs and mumbles his thanks while he turns the fan up.

Tyler sets all the food up on the silly decorative table occasionally used for card games or setting down beer bottles when there’s enough company that floor space becomes dangerous territory. He pours them both full cups of coffee just as Jamie pulls the hash browns out of the oven, and then they both head over to fill their plates.

Jamie sits back on the couch, plate on his lap, and breathes deeply, closing his eyes for a minute and focusing on the smell of breakfast throughout the room. This is good, he thinks. This is really good. He wonders if it can last all day.

Tyler nudges his shoulder gently, waving the bottle of maple syrup at him, smirking for some reason Jamie can’t figure out. He loves Tyler’s expressions though, so he grins back and takes it, and they lapse into silence as they stuff their faces.

“Good to see you’ve got your appetite back,” Tyler remarks as Jamie finishes off his second full plate, bathing his last piece of pancake in as much residual maple syrup as possible.

Jamie nods, but part of him doesn’t want to admit that this is the first time since before his surgery that he’s eaten this much for breakfast. It’s irrational and dumb, but he worries that if he acknowledges it out loud, he’ll jinx it and it won’t happen again. When Tyler says it though, it’s okay. Especially when Tyler’s beaming at him like Jamie’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. Jamie wants to be that kind of person for Tyler, wants so badly to give him all the reason in the world to feel that way, wants Tyler to know he feels the same.

So it seems like a great idea to deposit his empty plate on the little table and turn into Tyler, capturing his mouth in a brief kiss, tasting overwhelmingly of maple.

Tyler practically giggles when Jamie pulls away, and Jamie just knows he’s probably got a terribly dorky expression on his face, but Tyler’s eyes are sparkling all the same. “What was that for?” he asks, gleeful.

“No reason.” Jamie reaches out and cups Tyler’s jaw in his hand, thumb gently brushing away the stray crumbs at the corner of his mouth. “I just wanna kiss you.”

Tyler’s cheeks are already tinged pink when he places his plate down next to Jamie’s and turns into Jamie’s hand. “I won’t stop you,” he says with a teasing grin, tongue poking out between his teeth.

Jamie kisses him again, tugging insistently against Tyler’s arm, so Tyler swings a leg over Jamie’s, sitting up on his knees, careful to keep his weight off of Jamie’s hips. They kiss long and slow, licking into each other’s mouths, teeth scraping gently against skin. Tyler’s arms come to hook around Jamie’s neck, while Jamie runs his hands up and down Tyler’s sides as the kiss deepens.

It’s all so sweet and Jamie’s floating, sighing into Tyler’s mouth, drinking in the soft noises Tyler makes when Jamie’s hands skirt across his abs and higher, grazing gently over his nipples. Tyler pulls back slowly, then tips his neck and opens his mouth on Jamie’s throat.

Jamie lets out a shaky exhale, arching his neck to give Tyler more access. Tyler’s hands slide under Jamie’s shirt and work their way up, and Jamie shudders at the coolness of the touch. Then Tyler fists into the hem and pulls the shirt up, leaning back as Jamie lifts his arms to oblige. Tyler carelessly tosses the shirt aside and goes back to work on Jamie’s skin.

Tyler leans in, his boxers grazing Jamie’s, the outline of Tyler’s cock just close enough to send a tingling sensation all the way up Jamie’s spine. Jamie instinctively rolls his hips up to meet it, but then Tyler’s hands are carefully pressing them down as he kisses him.

“Let me, okay?” Tyler murmurs against Jamie’s lips.

Jamie nods and tries not to whimper when Tyler’s hand wraps around his dick through the fabric.

“I’ve got you,” Tyler soothes, gently nibbling at Jamie’s pulse point.

Jamie doesn’t know what to do with his hands. There’s so much exposed skin. He wants to touch Tyler everywhere, wants to touch all of it: the tattoos on his arms, the contours of his abs, the firm muscle of his back.

Instead, he settles for squeezing Tyler’s hips. “Please,” he says, his voice oddly hoarse, fingers shaking without his volition.

Tyler leans back to meet his eyes, steady, even while his cheeks are flushed and his pupils are blown huge.

“You want?” he asks in a low murmur, tipping his head inquisitively.

Jamie wants.

He nods, swallowing, and Tyler smiles before pulling off the couch. “I’ll go get the stuff,” he says. “I promise I’ll be right back.” He pats Jamie’s thigh briefly before heading for the stairs.

Jamie closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths before squirming to pull his boxers off. His dick rests against his abdomen, hard and straining already, but he keeps his hands stiff at his sides while he waits for Tyler.

They’ve fooled around bit since Tyler came to stay, but they haven’t had sex since before Jamie’s surgery. By unspoken agreement, they’d decided it was a bad idea to do anything that would require use of Jamie’s hips, but admittedly Jamie just hadn’t been in the mood.

Now, though, all of this kissing and gentle touching must have set something off, because there’s a warm coil of want pooling low in his gut and he just wants to feel Tyler around him, surrounding him, the mere thought of it is enough to make his dick twitch.

Tyler returns, also naked, with a condom and lube, and he sets them down on the couch as he moves back to straddle Jamie’s lap.

“I’ll handle everything, yeah?” Tyler says. He leans in for a kiss and their cocks slot together, the dry friction setting off a spike of heat through Jamie’s groin.

“Yeah,” Jamie groans.

Tyler smiles against Jamie’s mouth and reaches for the lube.

Tyler opens himself up on his fingers while they clumsily make out and Jamie fumbles with the condom. Jamie revels in the feel of Tyler trembling beneath his hands as he runs his palms up and down his chest, his back, his arms. It’s a little surreal, wanting Tyler like this now. He doesn’t want this feeling to ever go away, wants this moment to last an eternity.

Tyler shifts, and Jamie’s hands are in just the right spots to feel the muscles work. He sighs against Tyler’s lips, fingers imprinting firmly into Tyler’s skin, and then suddenly his breath leaves him in a rush as Tyler sinks down onto his dick.

Jamie tugs on Tyler’s hips, trying to get as deep as possible, to feel Tyler surround him everywhere he can. He can’t remember it ever being like this. Tyler is hot and tight around him, breathy moans escaping his lips as he slowly rocks himself against Jamie’s cock.

Tyler’s hands are on Jamie, one steady on his shoulder and the other running through his hair. Jamie can do nothing but tilt his head into it, open his mouth for Tyler’s tongue when he leans in close as the heat builds all around him.

It’s so much. It’s too much. Jamie’s burning with it, and nothing exists but Tyler, the two of them pressed tight together against the couch, panting and sweating. His gut clenches up as the want coils tighter and tighter, until he’s coming with a strangled gasp, body going rigid as Tyler rides him through it.

When it’s done, his body goes limp into the couch and Tyler strokes his hair. Vaguely, Jamie thinks that he should help Tyler, and he slides a hand down to wrap around Tyler’s cock, finding one of Tyler’s hands there already. He intertwines their fingers as they jerk him off together, and it’s not long before Tyler whimpers and comes between them.

Once Tyler’s settled, he slowly extricates himself from Jamie and goes to get a damp washcloth, wiping Jamie down with startling tenderness that makes Jamie’s heart swell. As soon as he’s done, Jamie grabs Tyler’s wrists and yanks him in. Tyler stumbles a little but comes willingly, curling up at Jamie’s side as Jamie buries his face in Tyler’s hair.

“Thanks,” Jamie whispers.

“Mmm,” Tyler mumbles sleepily, eyelashes fluttering. “How do you feel?”

Jamie smiles.

“I feel good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still waffling on whether or not I want to write a third piece, but from Tyler's POV. Either way, now this thing has a true happy ending, so I'm good.
> 
> Feel free to come chat with me on tumblr. Kudos and comments are much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
> 
> fic blog: nuanta-fic.tumblr.com


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